


Where'd You Get That Sadness?

by backiejonomo



Series: bare; character studies [1]
Category: bare: A Pop Opera - Hartmere/Intrabartolo
Genre: Character Study, M/M, of Jason's death, this is vague, uh, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 04:38:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7153880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/backiejonomo/pseuds/backiejonomo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"where'd you get that sadness, Jason?"<br/>"I wish I knew"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where'd You Get That Sadness?

**Author's Note:**

> based on the poem 'inheritance' by Warsan Shire

Jason doesn’t think as he does it. It’s a moment of quiet amongst the complete and utter chaos that has been his senior year.  
He looks at the vial in his hands and his brain goes silent. He knows that a dose of this amount is lethal. He knows that there is no coming back from this. Lucas’s warning before the rave, though it was silly, was a warning nonetheless.  


Jason shoves it to the back of his mind and tries not to think about it.  


He uncaps the vial in a quick and shaky motion. With one tilt of his head, he brings the bottle to his lips. The liquid- all of it- slides down his throat and leaves behind a fiery trail. He forces himself to swallow it and looks at the vial. It’s completely empty now, resting against his palm like an empty promise.  


Hey, at least this is a promise that he can actually keep.  


The show starts and it moves along at a fast pace. Jason doesn’t feel anything at first, but that’s fair. Truthfully, he hasn’t felt anything since he stepped out of that confessional.  


He has never heard Father raise his voice like that. Thinking hard about it, he supposes that nobody has ever heard Father with that kind of harshness in his tone. It would’ve surprised Jason if it had been any other situation.  


Going to Father was a last ditch effort on behalf of his mental stability. The decisions he had made, and the ones that he would have to make were pulling him apart from the inside and there was no repairing that damage.  


He doesn’t know what he was expecting from the confessional, if anything at all. Was he looking for comfort? Acceptance? On some level, of course he was. But he was too distraught in that moment to fully express any needs. He was bursting at the seams with desperation. He knew that he simply needed to hear somebody- anybody- say that things were okay. That he himself was okay. He just needed a reason to hold on, something that he could grasp in his hands and grip as tightly as he could.  


Father had screamed at him from the other side of the screen, and the volume made Jason collapse onto the ground. He couldn’t handle it; the last bit of hope that he barely had left was just ripped to shreds. Any hope of salvation was gone.  
Jason was out of options.  


Vial in his hand, he created an option on his own.  


His heads starts to feel cloudy and his thoughts are muddled. It’s not the same type of sensation from the rave; it’s nothing like that at all. He’s slipping and slipping but hey, at least the pit in his chest feels a little less empty.  
He starts to completely fall apart but he doesn’t feel a thing. He’s onstage; the lights are hot on his back and the ensemble of Romeo and Juliet dance around him.  


Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his mother in the audience. She’s in the third row, program gripped tightly in her hand. He had forgotten that she was coming.  


He couldn’t see much of her face, but he saw her eyes. Big blue eyes, gorgeous and gleaming even in the darkness. He has her eyes, the beautiful cerulean blue.  


“Where’d you get those eyes?”  


“My mother”  


She’s watching him as he stumbles through a monologue. When he told her about getting the lead, she had been confused but excited nonetheless. Of course she was excited- he was her boy. She rooted for him through all of his achievements, and he had many. As far as she was concerned, he was the perfect son.  


Her mouth is a line across her face, a tight-lipped line of confusion. The look reminded him of Nadia, her resting face of annoyance.  


“Where’d you get those lips?”  


“My mother”  


He knew, somewhere in his head that wasn’t drenched in the drug, that she was giving him that look because he was fumbling about onstage. He didn’t think much about it, though. He just wanted everything to be over.  


He continues to stare at his mother when he realizes something.  


Where is his father?  


He looks at the seats beside her, but it’s pointless. He’s nowhere to be seen.  


Jason supposes that he should’ve expected this. His father hasn’t spoken to him since he told him that he was casted in the school musical. It’s not like Jason and his father had ever been close; Jason was more of a trophy than a son.  


His father only used Jason to brag about him to his work buddies, and a punching bag when Jason didn’t live up to the impossibly high expectations set for him.  


Of course his father wasn’t there. When has his father ever been there for him?  


“And the absence, where’d you get that?”  


“My father”  


He gets one last look at Peter’s face before he goes down.  


Peter. Perfect Peter. His ginger hair that felt so soft between his fingertips. His soft skin. The freckles on his round cheeks that Jason spent so many nights tracing with his thumb. The eyes, so brown and deep, that made Jason completely forget about the beauty of his own eyes immediately. The smile that could stretch a million miles.  


But Peter isn’t smiling.  


He rushes to Jason and scoops him into his arms. Jason’s vision is completely blurred, but he reaches a shaky hand out and presses it to Peter’s cheek. Peter’s mouth is moving but Jason can’t hear a thing. He can only hear his own heart beat, pumping slower and slower with each passing second.  


“Jason, Jason what’s going on?”  


Jason feels himself smile. His vision is fading to black.  


“Peter,” he says airily. “I’ll be with you always”  


Peter is shaking him by the shoulders but Jason doesn’t feel a thing. Everything fades to black around him and it’s over in a brief moment.  


The only thing Jason is sure about is that through all of this, he doesn't let go of Peter. Not even for a second.


End file.
